Last week I had PRK (LASIK for the corneally challenged), after which I spent a few intensely uncomfortable days barely able to see. I had to rely on the children to find things in the house and when I stupidly declared that I had to try a new recipe early one morning when the house was in the throes of morning chaos, I had to rely on M to read the recipe for me (btw, the beet, kale, feta salad in this month’s Bon Appetit is terrific; replace the barley with quinoa). I do have to say though that discomfort does have its perks. If I were a desert-wandering Hebrew, when that manna fell from the sky and I got to choose whatever flavor I wanted, I wouldn’t choose falafel or shwarma like everyone else; I’d choose Vicodin. That stuff rocks.
And in the midst of all of this, the kids had yet another day off school. I think it was Teacher Pedicure Day, but I may be wrong. It was also Fiona’s fourth birthday so we hauled on over to the Great Wolf Lodge, which is what we do in lieu of birthday parties. I like to think of myself as an energetic person, but nothing sucks the life out of me faster than a birthday party. Times stands still when I am surrounded by a gaggle of small revelers and nothing on earth, no birthday entertainer out there, can speed it up. I have been known to check my watch every two minutes at a birthday party. Which is why I don’t do them anymore. Instead, I drag my brood to a hotel slash waterpark packed with some of the largest, most tatted-up people in Washington State. Oh, and apparently, if you’ve spent all your money on tattoos and nail art, there’s no money left for dental bills because those of us with a full set of teeth were in the minority.
But when all you can see is a fuzzy haze of light, the Great Wolf Lodge is Saint Tropez. Everyone looked pretty fabulous, and I’m not just saying that because after five years I finally discovered the GWL bar (big thanks to a certain friend for helping me find it).
I came home to see this on my desk, another gift from M (to match the one in the dining room):
Another light box, this one right next to the computer screen. I really must be in a foul mood if the boy has gone out and bought two of these in the past week. He hasn’t bought new pants since 2001.
It’s actually called the HAPPY LIGHT, so he really must be desperate. Poor thing.
As soon a I can fully open my eyes I plan on using it.